


lights will guide you home

by stilljustbitten



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Gay Panic, Hand Jobs, M/M, Shower Sex, and something in his hand, andrés has something on his mind, martín is being insecure, moaning in the monastery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:15:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27050308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilljustbitten/pseuds/stilljustbitten
Summary: He is startled by a silent knock on the bathroom door.“Martín?”Andrés.Martín instinctively grabs a towel to cover himself, but the door doesn’t open.“Yes?”“Can I come in?”Martín sighs. “Can’t you wait? I’m just about to get in the shower…”“Please.”There is something about the way Andrés says the word.Please. Andrés doesn’t sayplease. It sounds…  urgent.
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa & Palermo | Martín Berrote, Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 25
Kudos: 120





	lights will guide you home

Martin is used to the quiet nights at the monastery, and he is slowly learning to enjoy his own company. Andrés spends a lot of time either with some woman or with his brother, planning the heist. Some nights he is even doing small robberies, because he can’t suppress that side of himself for too long. 

This specific night he’s robbing some jewellery store God knows where together with God knows who. He has stopped asking Martín to come with him, because Martín has refused every time, stating that he’s simply not interested in something so small. Instead he stays at home, studying and making plans for something bigger. 

It’s not that he doubts Andrés’ skills in this field, yet he can’t help but think of him every time he’s out and wonder when he will be home. Often he ends up staying awake until he knows he’s safe, and right now he feels that he has been away for too long. It was supposed to be just a simple robbery, the store shouldn’t even be that far away. He feels himself starting to get nervous, even though he tries to tell himself that there’s no reason, many things could have come up to make it drag on. He then decides to calm down his thoughts by taking a shower, and hopefully he’ll be able to sleep afterwards.

After undressing he is startled by a silent knock on the bathroom door. 

“Martín?”

Andrés.  
Martín instinctively grabs a towel to cover himself, but the door doesn’t open.

“Yes?”

“Can I come in?”

Martín sighs. “Can’t you wait? I’m just about to get in the shower…”

“Please.”

There is something about the way Andrés says the word. Please. Andrés doesn’t say please. It sounds… urgent. Even though Martín’s initial reaction was denying him access, he’s no longer sure he’ll be able to. He pauses for a while, staring at the door, and then offers a hesitant, 

“Alright.”

“Took you long enough,” Andrés says when he enters the bathroom. Despite the cocky smile he has plastered on his face, Martín notices that it doesn’t reach his eyes. Andrés caresses his shoulder with a swift movement of his hand, and Martín almost flinches at the touch, feeling very vulnerable with only a towel around his waist. He searches Andrés’ face for any signs of what’s going on.

“What are you doing?”

Andrés is already undressing, but stops in the process of taking off one of his socks at Martíns question. He looks at Martín, who finds himself grabbing the hem of his towel harder, and answers with a raised eyebrow,

“I’m taking off my clothes. I prefer showering naked”. 

When he notices the look on Martíns face he rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t be silly”— he continues undressing —“you’ve seen naked men before, haven’t you?”

Martín doesn’t answer, but keeps staring as Andrés takes off his shirt, and he notices the slight shakiness of his hands. When he gets to his boxers, Martín forces himself to look away. 

He isn’t ready for this at all, every fibre of his body is telling him to back out, to simply leave the bathroom and let his best friend shower alone. Instead he turns around, discards his towel and steps in the shower, trying to ignore the fact that Andrés is right behind him, as naked as himself. After all he isn’t a coward.

It isn’t like he is ashamed of his body. At least not every part of it. He has been told several times, by several different men, how well he puts it to use. It also isn’t like he has never been naked in front of Andrés, it has happened on several occasions. After all they have known each other for a long time and lived together for years. To some extent he is used to seeing Andrés naked too. Often he has stumbled upon a very naked Andrés in the hallway or in the kitchen, when he hasn’t bothered to put on some clothes after a night with one of his women. Or he has taken a shower and forgot to bring his clothes to the bathroom, so Martín has been forced to watch him stroll through the room (pretending not to stare, of course).

But Andrés being naked on purpose in the same room as him, in this proximity, is on a whole different level. The way he had requested to get in the room with him, instead of just waiting, like he wants to… Martín doesn’t allow himself to think too much about it. It doesn’t make sense. 

Standing under the shower he closes his eyes and forces himself to think of anything other than the situation he is in. This is just a shower, he just has to clean himself and get out. He focuses on the water running through his hair, the smell of the soap. 

Then he feels Andrés shift next to him, the size of the shower cabin making his arm brush against his thigh. His focus then shifts to the heat radiating from Andrés’ body, the smell of his cologne over the smell of his own familiar soap, the sound of his breathing over the sound of the water hitting the floor. Shit.

He opens his eyes and finds himself staring directly into the eyes of Andrés. Suddenly he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, how to clean himself without touching Andrés. The room feels way too small, the air too damp. Too hot. Martín feels like he can’t breathe properly. 

“Martín. It’s alright. You’re thinking too much.”

He feels a hand on his shoulder and almost flinches. Again. “Relax.” The hand slides down his arm and seems to leave a trail of heat.

“Move over, it’s my turn now.”

He steps out of the water, careful to keep some distance between himself and Andrés, who adjusts the temperature a bit before stepping under the water himself. 

Martín is standing with his arms crossed over his chest, still trying to steady his breathing. He watches Andrés, how his skin is flushed from the heat of the water, his wet hair clinging to his forehead, how the soapy water runs from his hair down his neck to his chest, how some of it gets caught in the hairs on his chest, how some of it gathers in his navel… He exhales and shakes his head before returning his gaze to Andrés’ face. He has his fingers in his hair, rinsing out the soap. Just then he notices how his eyes are squeezed shut, his jaw is tight and that his expression looks… pained.

“Andrés, are you alright?” he asks quietly.

Andrés lets his hands run down across his face before opening his eyes, looking strangely fragile. He doesn’t answer the question, but he swallows hard and lets out a shaky sigh through his clenched teeth. Martín isn’t sure if the wetness in his eyes are just from the water. 

“Shit.”

All of his worries about keeping his distance to Andrés disappear, when he takes a hesitant step forward and wraps his arm around the other man’s shoulders. Andrés lays his head on Martíns shoulder, letting out another sigh, this time a little more broken. They stay like this for a few moments, Martín’s hand gently caressing Andrés’ back in a comforting motion.

“What happened?”

Andrés doesn’t answer, and Martín can feel his breathing against his shoulder. Instead he places both of his hands on Martíns hips, his fingers digging into his flesh. The sudden change in the atmosphere confuses Martín.

“Please, Andrés, what are you--”

He is interrupted by Andrés’ wet mouth on his neck, and lets his head fall back, hitting the wall behind him and letting out a groan from both pleasure and pain. Suddenly he is once again very aware of the closeness of their bodies, now pressed against each other. This is not fair. Whatever is going on with Andrés, whatever his problem is, he has no right to refuse him answers, and now Martín is getting hard, he can’t escape and it’s not fair just to attack him like this and--

When he feels Andrés’ erection against his thigh, his breath hitches in his throat. If he didn’t know better, he would think that Andrés was actually turned on by his body. He brings his hands to Andrés’ chest, not sure if his intention is to push him away or not. Andrés seems to sense his hesitation, and lifts his head up to look him in the eye. When Martín sees the look in his eyes, he realizes that pushing him away has never been his intention. Andrés’ eyes are dark, full of lust and determination. This is exactly the look Martín has always dreamed of seeing in his best friend's eyes, directed at him, but never dared to hope for. His look holds something else too, but Martín doesn’t get to decipher it, when Andrés’ mouth crashes against his without a warning. 

The kiss is anything but gentle. It’s needy, it’s all full of tongue and teeth, and Martín loves it. He lets his mouth be devoured by the other, and he hears needy whimpers coming from himself, but he finds himself unable to stop them, and not sure he wants to either. Andrés’ hands are all over his body, except the one place his body desperately aches for them to be. 

“An… Andrés…” he gasps, when the kiss ends.

“Mmh?” Andrés answers, his head buried in his neck, kissing and nibbling.

Martín is in no state to form a coherent sentence, so he just places his hands on Andrés’ ass and presses himself against him in the need for friction. This isn’t enough, this isn’t nearly enough.  
Andrés notices his despair - or maybe he feels the same - and brings his hand between their bodies to grab Martíns cock. Martín groans loudly at the feeling of his fingers around him, and lets his head fall to Andrés’ shoulder, panting. It takes a moment for him to focus, when Andrés starts stroking him, to realize that maybe he should be touching him too. 

Suddenly he hesitates. He has touched a lot of men before, knows just how to do magic tricks with his hands to evoke certain reactions from them. But this, this is fucking Andrés, and even though he has fantazised about this moment a lot of times, he suddenly doubts his own skills. What if Andrés doesn’t like the way he touches him? Or maybe he doesn’t want him to?

His spiral of thoughts is interrupted when Andrés gently grabs his hand and places it on his own erection. Martín instinctively wraps his fingers around it, moaning loudly as if it was himself being touched. He starts moving his hand, and judging from the sounds coming from Andrés, by the way his breathing gets faster, he very much likes the way Martín handles him. For a while there’s just the sound of their rapid breathing and the running water filling the room.

Martín wants this moment to last forever, it’s probably the only chance he will ever have to enjoy Andrés like this. But his body doesn’t listen to him, it’s craving release, and he’s closer than he wants to be. He tries to think of something else, focuses on caressing Andrés and enjoying all the beautiful moans and sighs that he elicits from him. Then Andrés bites his earlobe, and Martín comes all over his hand and stomach, his whole body shaking. 

“Holy fuck…” 

His legs are trembling, and the only reason he manages to still stand is because he’s pressed against the wall by Andrés’ body. Still shaken by his powerful orgasm, his body fails to respond to anything he tells it, and Andrés is thrusting into his now motionless hand, mouth open and a beautiful frown on his face. When Martín finally regains some control over his body, he starts moving his hand again, and that pushes Andrés over the edge. The expression on his face when he comes is without a doubt the most delightful thing Martín has ever seen. 

He is still nearly breathless when Andrés turns away to clean himself under the running water and leaves the shower without another word. Martín swallows and tries to make the sudden feeling of coldness go away by stepping under the warm shower and cleaning himself. After all, what did he expect? That Andrés would take a moment to thank him for his services before gently cleaning his own come off him and wrap him in a towel? That he would kiss him afterwards and confess his feelings for him? He isn’t stupid like that. He knows how it works. Whatever is going on with Andrés today has nothing to do with love. He clenches his jaw and steps out of the shower to dry himself. 

Lying in his bed a few minutes later, he isn’t able to stop his thoughts from racing. Why can’t he stop overthinking like an idiot and just enjoy the fact that he has just kissed the man he has been in love with for several years? That he has just gotten more than he ever dared to dream of? And yet he finds himself greedy, a selfish little thing, always wanting more.  
He lies awake for hours staring into the dark. 

When he finally drifts off to sleep, he is startled by the bed shifting behind him. He doesn’t even turn around when he feels someone slide under the blanket. There’s an arm around him and a warm body pressing very close, insistent, almost like holding on to him, to assure that he doesn’t go anywhere.  
The room is silent for a few minutes, and Martín decides that he is satisfied without any explanation, with just being held like this, but then Andrés speaks.

“Everything went to shit this evening.” His voice is rough, and Martín feels the vibrations of his chest when he speaks. “We were nearly killed. All I could think about was”- his voice almost breaks -”that I wanted to go home. To you.”

Martín takes his hand, interlacing their fingers, a warm sensation spreading inside his chest. He brings Andrés’ hand to his mouth, gently pressing his lips to the back of it.

“I’m right here.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've ever written, and I really enjoyed the ride. 
> 
> I considered asking you to be nice to me, but actually just let me know what you think, and I'll be forever grateful.
> 
> Thanks to @HistoireEternelle for believing in me and @GeometryOfTime for the beta and for staying with me through difficult times (mostly the posting process) <3


End file.
